The Narrow Road
by Little she-bear
Summary: The lives and loves of Commander Zavala; his journey to the Traveler, the establishment of the City and a Takanome Ranger who helped make him into the commander we know today.
1. Prologue

Zavala sat cross-legged under a rock overhang, with his spear, a trophy from a fight with a vandal, laid across his lap. His ghost hovered beside him. Every few minutes, she would nervously turn her optic skyward, watching for any change in the weather. Zavala suspected it would snow soon. Couldn't be helped, they had to keep going. They wouldn't be safe until they found the Traveler.

' _If anything happens to me, look for the blue flowers. Follow the flowers, they'll see you home.'_

The trail of flowers had ended weeks ago. There were no flowers here, no plant life of any kind, just snow as far as the eye can see. He had planted the bulbs left to him at the end of the trail, just before the ground froze and he carried on, his direction determined purely by his and his ghost's instincts. The pull of the Light was their compass, gut feelings their only map.

[Should we go now?] Zavala fancied he felt a tremor from Izanami through their neural link. He wondered if she was feeling the cold too, he'd never known cold like it. His Light could mitigate it to an extent but he was at the stage of forgetting what warmth felt like.

' _If you have to cross an ice field, watch out for crevasses. Only do it when the snow bridges are strongest, never during a thaw. Travel at night if you have to, just make sure the snow bridges are frozen.'_

[Just a little longer.] He replied. [Try not to worry, Iz. We're close, I can feel it. Do you feel it?]

[Yes,] she said, sending waves of uncertainty through their link. [But I'm scared it's just wishful thinking at this point.]

Zavala decided it was time and picked up his spear, using it to pull himself to his feet. [We'll make it.] He blinked his tired eyes before setting off in the direction they were both convinced the Traveler lay. This endless snow gave him a headache, eyes are not supposed to look on nothing but white for weeks on end. He would have sold both his souls to see something green. He missed green so much. It was slow going, the snow was deep, every step an effort. He tried to distract himself from the cold in his bones and the blisters on his feet by concentrating on the dual voices spurring him on; the first, his Ghost, hovering ahead of him calling out encouragement. The second, Sasha, echoing through his memories.

He suddenly felt his feet give way beneath him and he fell through a patch of snow that wasn't nearly as strong as the thought it was. He heard Izanami scream his name out loud and he somehow had the presence of mind to keep a hold of his spear. He drove the point into the ice and used it to stop his descent into the crevasse. An undignified scrabble ensued and he eventually hauled himself out.

' _Use your spear to test the snow before you step in it.'_

He rolled over onto his back, panting from exertion. "I know," he breathed.

' _Use your spear!'_

"I know, Sashenka, I hear you."

[Zavala?] Izanami hovered anxiously over him. [Are you alright?]

[I'm fine. I just need a minute.]

[You were talking to yourself.] Izanami's outer shell rotated in a pattern Zavala knew signified curiosity or confusion. [Did you hit your head?]

"No I wasn't. I'm said I'm fine." He got back to his feet and gingerly retrieved his spear from the edge of the crevasse before carrying on. He suppressed a chuckle when he noticed Izanami frantically scanning all the snow in his path for hidden hazards.

The snow began to come down with a vengeance and the wind swung around so they were walking straight into it. The wind-driven snow felt like thousands of tiny pinpricks against his face and he found himself using his spear more and more, less to test the snow ahead of him and more to use it to haul himself forwards.

' _You'll make it.'_

When he reached the summit he didn't realise how much he had been looking at the ground, willing his feet to keep putting one in front of the other.

' _With or without me, you'll make it.'_

[Zavala!] Izanami intruded on his memories. [Zavala, look!]

Zavala raised his eyes slowly, seeing the beginnings of a tree-line below him, then a conflagration of huts, campfires and their accompanying plumes of smoke. He looked up and then he saw it; a massive, white sphere suspended above the settlement. It was scorched, massive sections missing from its hull but it was unmistakably the Traveler.

[We're here. Zavala, we're here!] Izanami darted off down the hill before shooting back to wait for Zavala, her impatience obvious.

Zavala, for his part, took a moment to absorb the scene before him. He wanted to commemorate the moment. He swallowed down a lump in his throat as he surveyed the burgeoning town before him.

 _We did it, Sashenka,_ he thought. _We're home. Rest easy, now._


	2. Meetings

_First winter rain_

 _I plod on;_

 _Traveller, my name._

 _ **\- Basho**_

Zavala discovered that if there was one thing that hurt more than climbing a mountain in a blizzard, it was coming down the other side. The pressure on his knees and ankles was exhausting, and it was difficult not to slip on the snow. In his weaker moments, he considered just sitting down and trying to slide down into the village on his backside. It would have been faster.

By the time he reached the the bottom, he was visibly limping and leaning heavily on his spear for support. Izanami, by contrast, seemed energised. She darted back and forth around Zavala's shoulders, chirping excitedly.

[Look how many Light Bearers there are!] She squealed over the neural link. [Look at all the Ghosts!]

[Mm-hmm] he responded, noncommittally. He headed for the centre of the settlement, avoiding eye contact with anyone. He was far more interested in reaching the fire he could see ahead of him than making friends. When he finally reached the open-air hearth he sank down on to a free seat. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, wincing as feeling returned to his joints.

"Where'd you get that spear?"

Zavala reluctantly turned from the warmth of the fire to regard the person who had spoken to him; A burly man dressed in patchwork armour and a ragged cloak, a ghost floating at his shoulder. Zavala was tired, he was in pain, his ghost hadn't had a chance to heal him yet. Zavala wasn't in the mood for this sort of rudeness. A 'hello' would have been nice.

"Fallen." The word seemed strange coming from him, his tongue felt too big in his mouth. It had been so long since he had spoken to someone other than his Ghost.

"I can see that," the other man replied. "I mean did you fight one for it, or did you just find it?"

"What's it to you?"

"It's a good weapon, those shock blades are hard to come by. The best weapons should go to the best fighters, that's how things work here."

Zavala rose from his seat by the fire. The other man was taller than him by a good half-head but Zavala wasn't intimidated. He'd fought far worse than him during the long trek to the Traveler. "And you're one of the best fighters, is that what you're trying to tell me?"

"You only just got here, you haven't had training."

"You have no idea what this spear has helped see me through. It's mine. I'm not giving it up." He turned back towards the fire, "Now, if you don't mind? I'm very tired."

"I do mind." The man stepped forward and made a grab for the spear. Zavala reacted instantly, spinning on the ball of one foot in order to bring the bottom of the spear around to the back of his assailant. He then struck him hard on the back of his ankles, before pushing forward and up, sweeping the would-be thief's feet out from under him. The man landed heavily on his back, while Zavala pointed the butt of the spear at his sternum.

Zavala heard laughter and slow, sarcastic applause coming from his left. "Oh Iakin, when are you going to learn? Just because someone is shorter than you, that doesn't mean you can take them." The new speaker shambled over and Zavala double-took at his appearance. If the man he had just flattened was big, this new speaker was enormous. He wore armour, crudely painted in orange and white, topped off by a horned helmet. The horned man leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees. "You need to get your balance sorted out, Iakin."

"Piss off, Shaxx," Hissed Iakin.

"I'm not the one lying on my back with a spear pointed at me. You piss off. Go on." This Shaxx person nodded to Zavala to step back. "Let him up."

Iakin scrambled to his feet and stalked away.

"You've got slush stuck to your arse, Iakin," Shaxx called after him. "You're welcome." Shaxx turned to Zavala and held out his fist. "Nicely done!"

Zavala stared at Shaxx's extended fist for a couple of awkward seconds, unsure if he was supposed to do something. Shaxx gently took Zavala's wrist and lifted it up, then bumped his fist against Zavala's.

Understanding flashed across Zavala's face. "Ah. Sorry. I've been on my own a long time."

"That's okay. You got a name?" "Zavala." He looked back at the retreating Iakin with an expression of distaste. "Are they all like him here?"

"Nah. He's all ego, that one. Light-drunk. He thinks he's hot shit in a champagne glass but he's just tepid crap in a cup. What you did was the best way to deal with him." Shaxx started chuckling again. "You probably didn't see the look on his face, you were too busy. Beautiful."

Zavala's lips twitched into a small, lopsided smile . "I've had some practice."

"Were you alone all the way here here?"

Zavala looked at his feet and responded with a mumbled, "Not all the way."

 _Zavala wakes before his Ghost has a chance to rouse him. Their shelter that night had been a hollow beneath the roots of a gnarled, long dead tree. The landscape is still bleak but at least sand has given way to grass and the occasional (very occasional) tree, which is an improvement. He isn't sure why that is an improvement, he has no memory of having seen plants before, he just knows it is. He mentally runs through the list he goes through every morning._

' _Here's what I know: I was dead, now I'm alive. I died in a crash. I'm an Awoken. My name is Zavala. I don't think that was always my name but it's the name I have now. My Ghost is called Izanami. If I die again, I can come back but only if I protect my Ghost. Dying hurts. We follow the Light to find the Traveler.'_

 _He pushes himself into a sitting position, stretching and working out the kinks in his muscles. [Ready?] His Ghost asks in his mind. [We've got a long way to go today.] They always have a long way to go. He gets to his feet and picks up a spear which serves as his one and only weapon, then begins walking, forcing his tired legs to stretch themselves back into usefulness. As they travel, he scans the horizon, looking out for Fallen or possibly bandits. Izanami assures him that human bandits are a menace on the road to the Traveler but they haven't seen any yet, Fallen are the main problem so far. Zavala would like to avoid them, if at all possible. Zavala is alone and Fallen always travel in groups, so dying would be inevitable. Dying hurts._

 _[Wait!] Izanami sounds nervous. [I'm picking up…wait here. Don't move. I mean it, not a muscle.] She materialises and floats ahead, sending out beams of light. Zavala wonders what has her rattled, she doesn't normally come out unless she absolutely has to. During their first few days together, she was at pains to tell him how perilous the Road was for a lone Light Bearer. 'Better that no one knows what you really are,' she'd said. 'Warlords will try to recruit you, humans will be afraid of you and humans have a nasty habit of trying to kill things they're afraid of. No. We keep our heads down until we reach the Traveler.'_

 _Zavala wasn't sure why things would be better at the Traveler. The pull he felt towards it was undeniable but he couldn't put the 'Traveler means safety' on the list of things he knows. He doesn't know that, not for certain. It's a guess, a hunch. He goes along with it because what else is there? He has no desire to join with one of these Warlords Izanami has told him about. 'Head for the Traveler,' gives him some sense of purpose at least._

 _Izanami finally turns and zooms back towards him and dematerialises again. [Shit.]_

 _[What's wrong?]_

 _[This area is mined. Quite extensively.]_

 _Zavala peers at the ground ahead of him, looking for any sign of the trap Izanami had just described. [Is it the Fallen? Can we go around?]_

 _[I don't know. I'm not sure how far it extends. Shit!]_

 _[All right, calm down, we just need to -] Zavala's train of thought is interrupted by the sound of a Fallen skiff entering the atmosphere. "Shit." He casts around for an escape route, there's little to no cover here and he'd really rather not die today. [Which way?]_

 _[Just run, we'll figure out a way around later.]_

 _Zavala turns on his heel and runs back in the direction they just came. It doesn't take long before he hears the sound of a transmat and then pikes coming towards him. He risks a glance over his shoulder and sure enough, there are three dregs riding pikes bearing down on him._

 _[I'm getting a gun this time, Izanami. I don't care how many times I have to die for it, I'm getting a damn gun!] He begins zig-zagging across the ground in an attempt to avoid any incoming fire._

 _[Just keep running, we'll find-] There's a sudden explosion behind them and Zavala finds himself thrown forward. He lands heavily and looks behind to see what happened. One of the pikes has exploded, leaving a flaming chassis and pieces of shrapnel behind._

 _[Guess the Fallen didn't put the mines there then?] Zavala scrambles back to his feet and resumes running. He clambers up a nearby hill, hoping he'll be able to take some cover from any Fallen pot-shots. The Fallen are screaming and yelling in a language he doesn't recognise. He wonders if they blame him for the mines, they sound furious. He carries on fleeing when his stride is suddenly interrupted by something grabbing his ankle. He falls flat on his face and looks down to see a hand extending from what looks like a patch of grass. The grass patch raises its head to reveal a masked face which hisses at him angrily._

" _Stay behind me and keep your head down." It's only then that Zavala notices the sniper rifle propped up on a bi-pod. He's literally tripped over a camouflaged sniper wearing a ghillie suit with real vegetation sewn into it. "Thanks for leading them right to me, dumbass. Stay back, stay low." Zavala crawls to a spot that he hopes is unobtrusive enough. A shot rings out and one of the Dregs falls from its pike. A group of vandals begin advancing and the sniper fires again and again in quick succession but not hitting any of the targets._

 _[They keep missing!] Izanami complains silently over the neural link. [They do know that rifle has a scope on it, right?]_

 _Zavala studies the direction the sniper is firing and how the Fallen try to evade. [They're doing it on purpose. They're herding them towards the-] There's another explosion and various Fallen body parts rain down from the sky. [-mines.] There's more angry yelling and gesticulating but the remaining Fallen retreat and eventually transmat away back to their ship._

 _Zavala turns to the sniper to thank them but finds himself pinned when they suddenly spring over to him, straddle his chest and hold a knife to his neck._

" _What are you doing all the way out here by yourself?"_

" _I could ask you the same thing." Zavala replies, keeping as still as possible._

" _I'm a ranger. I range. The clue's in the name." Zavala thinks the voice, though heavily filtered through the facemask, sounds feminine. "You're no ranger. What are you doing out here?"_

 _[Think, Zavala,] entreats Izanami._

 _[I'm thinking.]_

 _[Think faster.]_

" _Are you a scout? Did Fulgrim send you?" She presses the knife harder. "Answer me!"_

" _I don't know who that is!" He takes a breath before speaking again, "I…I was traveling with some people. We got separated." He winces. It's not a lie, not technically. There were other bodies, long dead, on the ship Izanami found him in and there were sure to be other passengers who had survived the crash. He just doesn't mention that it was his first death that had separated them._

" _I haven't seen anyone else out here."_

" _I've been alone a long time. I promise you I'm not a scout. I don't work for anyone. In fact, I could use some help."_

 _His assailant relaxes a little before taking back the knife and sheathing the knife. "Okay. To be fair, if you're a scout, you're a pretty shitty one. No offence."_

" _None taken." Zavala shrugs. "Can I get up now?"_

" _I'll take you back to the Ranger Station. We'll figure out what to do with you there but I swear, if it turns out you work for that Warlord, I won't even waste a bullet on you. I'll open your throat. I can do it."_

" _I believe you." Zavala can't resist smiling._

" _Something funny to you?"_

" _I'm sorry," he says, looking her up and down in that grass suit she's wearing. "I've never been threatened with murder by an angry shrub before. It's a new experience for me."_

 _She snorts and stands up, offering Zavala a hand up. "What's your name?"_

" _Zavala."_

" _Zavala who?" She removes her helmet._

 _He finds himself staring, taking in every detail of her face; the broad nose sprinkled with freckles, the epicanthal folds around her large brown eyes, the jet-black hair secure in a coiled braid at the nape of her neck. It suddenly dawns on him that this is the first human face he's seen since being resurrected._

" _Uh," he stammers. "Just Zavala."_

" _I'm Alexandra Ivanova. All right, Just Zavala, stay close, don't wander off." She taps an ear piece and begins speaking with someone on the comm. "Yeah. Yeah it's me. They tried, they failed. Five kills, the rest retreated. They'll try again, they're getting bolder." She glances back at Zavala. "And I picked up a stray."_


	3. Training

" **The moon's good": They kick off their hakama for wrestling**

 **\- Hokushi.**

"You're going to die, you know."

Zavala looked up at Shaxx quizzically, wondering how he could say something so ghoulish in such a casual tone of voice. They were on their way to combat training, Zavala's first session. Shaxx was clearly an old hand, or at least he acted like one. Zavala couldn't tell if he was trying to prepare him or if he was winding him up.

"Sorry but it's true, you're going to die today. More than once." Zavala stopped in his tracks and kept staring at him. "You'll get used to it. It's all part of the experience."

"Uh. Thanks for the heads up?" Zavala resumed walking and they carried on towards the sparring grounds on the outskirts of the settlement. "It's fine. I've died before. Plenty of times."

"In quick succession?"

"No can't say it's ever been more than once in twenty-four hours."

"Get ready for more than once in twenty minutes." They came to a halt with the other Risen from the settlement, who were gathered in a circle, waiting for the instructors to make themselves known. Shaxx leaned down and whispered, "People tend to be harsh with the new arrivals. Be prepared for that. You can team up with me if you like."

"Would you go easy on me?"

"No."

Zavala chuckled, then fell silent as an instructor entered the circle, and began to speak, projecting his voice across the field. "All right, pair up. Hand to hand combat today, Light abilities are not only allowed they are encouraged. Show us what you've got. Best of three, get to it!"

Zavala turned to Shaxx and asked, "Best of three?"

"Deaths," Shaxx answered bluntly.

"Ah." Zavala nodded. Shaxx wasn't kidding about how many times he might die today. He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders, forcing himself to relax. "Okay, so are we-"

"New guy!" Shaxx and Zavala turned to see Iakin glaring in Zavala's direction. "With me."

"He wants a rematch?" Zavala muttered.

While Shaxx shook his head slowly, Zavala suspected he was rolling his eyes behind that helmet. "Kick the little twerp's arse. I'll see you after." He turned to the rest of the assembly and pounded a fist into his open palm. "Okay, who's with me? Come on, step up. Anyone?" The other Risen avoided making eye contact and steadily drifted away from him, as though he had plague. "Oh come on. Come on! Oh, you bunch of wusses." He eventually managed to grab a retreating Risen by the collar. "Come here. Oh it's okay, it'll be over soon."

Zavala trudged toward his opponent, taking note of the state of the ground as he did. The foot traffic in this area had turned most of the snow to a treacherously slippy, brown, slush.

"All right," the instructor called out once the group had been paired off. "Ghosts to a safe distance please."

Izanami shuddered and turned her optic to Zavala for reassurance. "It's fine, Iz." Zavala cupped her shell in the palm of his hand. "It's just to avoid friendly fire, I'll be fine."

"I don't like this," she glanced around nervously.

"Go with the other ghosts. It's just a precaution, I'll see you soon."

"Very soon," said Iakin, a smirk fixed on his face. She spun her shell to face Iakin and contorted her top two spines into a sharp 'v' shape. After she floated away to the edge of the sparring ground, Iakin asked, "Why does your Ghost have separation anxiety?"

"I told you, we've been through a-" He was suddenly interrupted by Iakin's fist smashing into his face. Zavala staggered backward, tasting blood at the back of his throat. He spluttered and gingerly covered his nose with his hand. His nose was broken for sure, that would be Izanami's first job when they were reunited. He suddenly realised Iakin was coming for him again and blocked his punch with his forearm. Iakin kept advancing, swinging left and right while Zavala was forced backwards, still not having recovered from that first sucker-punch. He eventually slipped and fell. He both felt and heard the crack when his head hit a rock, then everything went dark.

 _Alexandra had brought her bike to a halt at the crest of a hill overlooking a vast expanse of water, with a town nestled beside it. She chugs from a water flask before offering to Zavala who politely declines. He's far too busy staring at the sight before him._

" _Is…is that the ocean?" He supposes it must be the ocean, the water extends as far as the eye can see. He's never seen this much water, not since he was revived and then he was eager to get away from the shallow sea he had obviously died in. His heart beats faster as images of darkness and cold panic skirt at the edge of his memories._

" _Traveler help you, you really are lost, aren't you?" She shakes her head, "No. We're well inland here. That's Lake Baikal. You'll be staying at the Ranger Station there until we decide what to do with you."_

" _What to do with me?" He wrenches his gaze away from the lake and frowns at his new-found…What is she to him? His guide? His protector? Or his captor perhaps?_

 _Alexandra shrugs and screws the cap back on her flask. "You were out in the middle of nowhere, no weapons, no equipment. That's unusual to say the least. The others will have questions about how you survived alone like that."_

 _Zavala drops his gaze to the floor, contemplating if he should just tell her the truth; that he didn't survive, that he died over and over. What if his Ghost is being too cautious? This Ranger seems reasonable, terrifying when she has a knife in her hand but reasonable._

 _The crackle of a radio, then the sound of a woman's voice interrupts the ensuing silence. "Sasha? You coming home tonight? Your dinner's getting cold."_

 _She grins and picks up the radio and replies, "Yes, I'm on my way. Just pop my dinner in the oven for me, I promise I won't be up past my bedtime. Seriously though, just taking a little pit-stop then we'll be down."_

" _We? Ah, yes, your stray. How long?"_

" _About half an hour, so don't shoot."_

" _Oh come on."_

" _I've seen how bad your aim is, Dolores, your eyesight's terrible. Wouldn't put it past you to mistake us for Dregs."_

" _Have a care. Age comes not alone, child, it'll happen to you too. See you soon"_

 _She pockets the radio and gets back on the bike. "Come on, let's go." Zavala ambles over and rides pillion behind her._

" _Who was that? Another Ranger? How many of you are there?"_

 _Alexandra pulls on her helmet and starts the ignition on the bike. "Not enough," she sighs before setting off._

 _When they arrive, they're waved through a massive gate set into a protective outer wall. After parking the bike, Alexandra beckons for Zavala to follow her through what pass for streets in this conflagration of humanity. The town is a mixture of crumbling Golden Age buildings, huts, lean-tos and what looked like converted shipping containers piled on top of eachother. Zavala winces at his Awoken senses picking up on the sudden cacophony of minds crammed into this space. The noise gradually quiets as he erects mental defences, more from instinct than anything else, he has no memory of learning how to do this. The occasional pointed, curious thought from someone staring at him in cuts through. The people here are dressed for hardship; tattered furs, cracked leathers and worn boots. Zavala is keenly aware of how out of place his white flight suit looks here._

 _He looks in the direction of the latest mental enquiry to breach his mental levees and sees that it's Alexandra, staring at him intently. "You all right? You're wincing."_

" _I'm not used to this many people."_

" _This an Awoken thing? I heard you people can sense things we can't." Zavala just nods, beginning to accept that he'll most likely end up with a splitting headache before he gets used to this._

" _These people can't all be headed for the Traveler?" He asks, looking around in amazement._

" _No. You get all sorts here. Pilgrims, merchants, descendants of people who tried to get to the Cosmodrome during the Collapse. The Road is dangerous but it's relatively safe here so some Pilgrims abandon the idea and settle. There's some unsavoury types too, so stay close." They turn a corner and come to a ramshackle mess-hall set up in a large tent. "Get something to eat, I need to go debrief, I'll be back in a few minutes." She points at him as though he's a naughty child liable to run off. "Stay here. I mean it, don't wander." She shepherds him to the back of the queue before telling a man in armour similar to hers to watch him._

 _The line moves slowly and Zavala shuffles his way along, shoulders hunched and head down._

 _[I think I preferred it when it was just us.] Izanami complains._

 _[It'll be fine, this is only temporary.] As he nears the head of the queue, the aroma from a massive pot of stew wafts towards him. He doesn't recognise the smells, he just knows that they make his stomach clench and rumble. [Besides, it might be nice to rest properly. Hot meals. Sleep in a bed.]_

 _[Zavala. Three o'clock.] Izanami says in a nervous, warning tone. [And nine o'clock and six…oh dear.] The others in the queue have stepped back while two men and one woman position themselves around Zavala. Their feet are planted far apart, their arms folded._

 _Zavala glances between the three of them. "Can I help you?"_

" _You're the guy Sasha brought in?" Asks the woman._

" _You mean Alexandra Ivanova? The Ranger? Yes." Zavala unfolds his arms slowly, letting them drop to his sides. "Word travels fast, apparently."_

 _The three of them begin circling him and take turns firing questions at him, one after the other, "How long were you out there alone? Why don't you have a weapon? How did you survive? Why are you dressed like that? You a pilot? Where's your ship?"_

 _Zavala does his best to keep an eye on each of them. His lips curls into a snarl, his annoyance overriding his sense of caution. "Do actually want me to answer these, or are you just trying to make a point?"_

" _Fulgrim sent you didn't he? What is he after?"_

" _I'll tell you what I told Alex- Sasha. Whatever. I don't work for him. I'd never even heard of Fulgrim until today."_

" _Liar!" One of the men yells. He's stick-thin and wiry so Zavala is completely taken aback by his strength when he lands a punch in Zavala's gut. He gasps and tries to back away, doubled-over._

 _He wraps one protective arm around his stomach and holds his other hand out, palm-up, in an entreating gesture. "Please don't." With that, the three of them set upon him, punching, kicking, scratching. Zavala collapses to the floor and curls into a fetal position._

 _[Fight back!] Izanami pleads._

 _[I can't.]_

 _[Yes you can! You've fought off Vandals hand-to-hand, this is nothing!]_

 _[I might kill them.] Zavala screws his eyes shut, fighting against the brewing anger inside him. He doesn't want his Light to manifest, not now but each blow from his attackers cause that little spark of heat in his chest grow and grow and until his skin begins to prickle and he feels that tell-tale jolt of power in his fingertips. He screws his eyes shut, crosses his arms and balls his fists against his chest. He's just about to yell, to scream a warning to his assailants to get back when a gunshot sounds just a few feet away. Zavala forces his eyes open to see who fired._

" _What in the Traveler's name are you doing?" Sasha is standing with a massive pistol aimed skywards, wearing a facial expression that's one part incredulity, three parts murder. She lowers her gun to point it in the direction of Zavala's assailants. "Get back. All of you!" They shuffle backward, hands up. She holsters her gun and scowls in the direction of the armoured man toward the back of the mess. "What the hell, Goran? I told you to watch him."_

 _The man shrugs, leaning nonchalantly against one of the mess' support beams. "I did watch."_

" _They could have killed him!"_

" _I wouldn't have let it get that far. You gotta admit, Sasha, it's more than a little suss. You shouldn't have brought him back here, you know he's probably a scout."_

" _You ever see a spy look as incongruous as him? Not much use as a spy, don't you think?"_

" _Why take the risk?" One of the men who attacked speaks up. His gaze is still full of venom but he looks decidedly less confident than before. "Just chuck him back over the wall and be done with it."_

" _He is my responsibility. If any of you touch him again, you can make your way to the Traveler by yourselves. How about we put you outside the wall with a couple days' rations? You fancy traveling alone? During winter? Like the sound of that?_

" _You can't make that decision, Sasha. You're not in charge," the ranger called Goran protests._

" _Dolores can. Want me to call her?" Sasha's suggestion is met with grumbling and shuffling. "That's what I thought. Get out of here, all of you." She glares after them as they retreat and the other pilgrims gradually gather back around to queue for food again, giving Sasha and Zavala a wide berth. She kneels at his side to help him up. "Anything broken?"_

" _I don't think so," he says, wincing at a sharp pain in his chest as he gets to his feet._

 _[I beg to differ,"] Izanami interjects across their Link. [Two of your ribs are broken. You'll have some serious contusions too, if you don't let me do something about them.]_

" _Come on," Sasha takes him by the elbow and steers him away from the mess tent. "Let's get you patched up."_

 _Zavala nods, taking as deep breaths as his aching ribs will allow, not permitting himself to relax until he's sure his Light has abated._

" _Listen," Sasha says as they walk side-by-side, "If anyone gets you on the ground like that again, kick at their legs. Strike with your heel, hard, and follow through. If you get the angle right, you might just break their shin or their knee."_

 _Zavala laughs softly and instantly regrets it as a fresh spike of pain lances through him. "Has anyone ever told you you're a little scary?"_

 _She smirks, not looking offended in the slightest. "I'm just practical." She pats his arm. "Stick with me, you'll be fine."_

Zavala gasped as his lungs filled with air. He blinked furiously as the world came back into focus and he saw Izanami hovering over him.

[Get out of the way] he told her silently. Iakin was standing with his back to them, laughing uproariously, calling to someone across the field.

"Did you see that? He must have a skull like an eggshell!"

Zavala waited until his Ghost was safely away before silently maneuvering himself around. He drew one leg back and kicked out hard, feeling his heel crash into the side of Iakin's knee. There was a sickening snap and Iakin immediately dropped to the ground with an agonised scream. Zavala sprang to his feet and grabbed the back of Iakin's head, fisted his fingers in his hair, pulled his head back then smashed his knee into his face. He let go of his hair and let him fall backwards, lifeless, like a rag-doll.

"WHOO! Yeah, that'll learn him!" Izanami hollered from the sidelines, spinning her shell in jubilation. She noticed Iakin's ghost staring at her. "What?" The other Ghost dipped the points of its shell in what could almost be a sigh before floating over to revive their Risen.

"All right," Iakin said, getting to his feet after his Ghost brought him back, "All right. I got cocky. I'll give you that one."

Zavala resisted the urge to reply with a sarcastic quip and instead concentrated on finding a strong stance and anticipating Iakin's next gambit. He brought his arms up to a defensive position and kept still, waiting for Iakin to attack. He watched him pace back and forth, trying to goad him into making the first move but Zavala remained impassive, staring him down. Iakin eventually gave in to impatience and charged at him, swinging wildly with his fists. Zavala blocked as best he could until he feels the hairs on his arms rise and his skin erupt in gooseflesh; there's arc energy nearby. He raised a void overshield in response.

Iakin backed off when he realised his blows were to no avail. "That overshield won't last forever, you know. Are you going to land a punch or-"

Zavala took Iakin's jibe as an opportunity to drop the shield and summed the arc aspect of his Light. He rushed him, turning to a bright, crackling blur as he rammed his shoulder into Iakin at full force. He vapourised mid-taunt and Zavala stepped back, allowing himself a small, satisfied smile.

"Best of three, right?" He said, turning to the other sparring couples for confirmation. They had all stopped and were staring at him. A few whispers broke out and Zavala's smile vanished. He looked around uncertainly until he found Shaxx, also staring at him. "What?" He mouthed.

With that, Iakin's Ghost revived him and he immediately started yelling in the instructor's direction. "That doesn't count! This isn't fair, how was I supposed to know he could do that?"

Zavala scurried over to Shaxx. "Do what? What did I do? you said we were meant to die, best of three deaths, that's what you said."

Shaxx cocked his head. "Uh, you switched between void and arc Light as though it was nothing."

"So?" Zavala shrugged, nonplussed. "Was I not supposed to? No one told me I wasn't supposed to do that."

"It's not that you're not supposed to. It's rare. Especially for a youngster." He looked toward Iakin, still protesting the injustice of it all. "He wasn't expecting it."

"Oh." Zavala nodded. "Oh, I see. Am I supposed to pick one or the other?"

"Not for me to say." He jutted his chin toward another Risen walking toward the sparring ground. "Better to ask him." This newcomer was dressed in armour that put most of them to shame. Aside from the ornately inlaid helmet, there was a slightly ramshackle feel to it. The parts didn't all exactly match, there were obvious dents and scuffs, and it was complemented by somewhat ragged-looking cloth accoutrements. The effect was all the more intimidating though, he was a clearly a man who was no stranger to battle.

"Do you think the Fallen care one whit for fairness?" He spoke in a low growl that somehow managed to cut right through Iakin's histrionics. He fell silent, bowing his head in deference. "You think a gang of Vandals will back off if you cry 'fair play?' Do honestly believe a Captain won't use your bones as a boundary marker because you invoke rules of engagement?"

"No, my Lord." Iakin mumbled in response.

"What have you learned?"

Iakin shot a surly glare in Zavala's direction before responding, "Don't underestimate your opponent."

"And?"

"Expect the unexpected?"

"Good." He nodded once before turning away. He stopped in front of Shaxx who nodded respectfully.

"Lord Saladin."

"Shaxx. Vicious as ever." A note of amusement had crept into that gravelly voice.

"Thank you m'lord."

"And I see you've made friend. Good for you." He turned to look at Zavala. "This one might give you a run for your money."

"I hope so," Shaxx said, giving Zavala a playful punch to the shoulder. "I was getting bored."

"I won't be here for the next couple of weeks at least, a matter in Old Russia requires our attention." He glanced at Zavala, then back at Shaxx. "Keep an eye on this one for me. He's got potential."

"Will do. Is…" Shaxx hesitated. "Is Lady Efrideet going with you?"

Saladin snorted and turned to leave the sparring ground. He called back over his shoulder, "I'll give her your regards."

Zavala waited until Saladin was out of earshot before grabbing Shaxx's arm. " _Lord_ Saladin?" He whispered urgently. "As in _war_ Lord?"

"No! No fear." Shaxx assured him. "Iron Lord. They're the ones who put Warlords down."

"Oh," Zavala visibly relaxed. "I don't like Warlords."

Shaxx looked at him askance. "You've had run-ins with Warlords? Zavala you've got stories to tell, why don't you talk more?"

He gave a lopsided shrug and stammered, "I uh, I heard things. Never good things." He took a deep breath and decided to change the subject. "So who's Efrideet?"

"Ah," Shaxx put his hands on his hips and puffed his chest out. "Lady Efrideet." He drew out the second syllable of 'Lady' in a happy sigh. "I _like_ Lady Efrideet." He clapped an arm around Zavala's shoulder and walked him back towards the camp. "Let me tell you about Lady Efrideet…"


End file.
